Innocence Once Lost
by FirestarterX
Summary: A Death Eater kidnaps Harry at his thirteenth birthday, and gives him a taste of Dark Magic. Who says that all Gryffies have to be light?
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, it wouldn't be a children's book. And I would be a whole lot richer._**

* * *

_Harry giggled coldly as he watched the rabbit dangling from the rafters. Oh, what a shock this would be to Stubbs when he came back up to his room and happened to glance out his window. Of course, stupid Miss Cole would point the accusing finger at him. But no matter. She had no proof, other than the argument the two of them had gotten in last night. It wasn't as if sitting in the time out corner would do anything, anyways._

_He smirked as the furry creature swayed in the slight breeze. Stubbs would learn not to argue with him, and that trying to tease him was a moronic waste of time. Admittedly it had smarted a bit when the boy had told him how ugly and homeless his mother had looked when she had dropped him off. What did he know? He would have just been two! He probably didn't even remember anything about his mother._

_Harry glanced casually at the clock in the corner of the room. He noted that there were only a couple minutes left until recess was over and the rest of the children came back in. As he left the room, he grabbed a watch off of the bed and pocketed it, planning to add it to his collection._

_As he stepped into his own room a few halls away, he heard a door open, followed shortly with a shrill scream. Harry smirked and leaned back on his bed, glancing at the shadowed window._

_Smirking right back at him from the faint reflection on the glass was a young boy, with neatly combed black hair and cold dark brown eyes. He looked oddly familiar..._

Harry woke with a start. Those were most definitely _not _his memories. He sat up straight on his bed and rubbed his scar curiously. That wasn't a dream about Voldemort, if it was even a legitimate dream, yet his scar was tingling. He passed it off as one of the curiousities that was Harry James Potter and thought about the dream.

It seemed to have been based in some sort of a Muggle orphanage, Harry remembered. Even though he was sure that it was not himself in it, it had seemed so _real._ He remembered his calculating fury at the boy named Stubbs, and annoyance and dislike towards whomever _Miss Cole _was. Harry supposed that the revenge should have bothered him, but he felt like giving that dark haired boy applause.

Still thinking, he turned to his calender to mark off another day before he could returns to Hogwarts. If he hadn't accidently marked on the number, he never would have realized today's date.

"I'm thirteen!" He whispered to himself. It really wasn't that surprising that he forgot, considering how the Dursley's didn't care one penny about unimportant dates, such as their freakish nephew's birthday. In fact, as the date sunk in, his stomach twisted. Today was the day that Aunt Marge was coming to visit.

He vaguely wondered at what would happen if he ran off before she arrived. The Dursley's would rejoice, for sure, but he could imagine what his friends would say. "_Harry, you shouldn't joke about things like that! Imagine how Professor Dumbledore would react if you vanished!" _Hermione. "_Blimey, mate! My mum would flay you alive if you did that, and then she'd go ahead and skin _me _for good measure!" _Ron.

He smiled and sighed. He really knew his friends too well.

He heard a tapping at the window and rushed over to allow the trio of owls into his room. Hedwig, Errol, and a third unfamiliar owl landed on a perch, Errol teetering cautiously off the edge.

Harry picked him up and set him back down on his shoulder as he unfolded what was undoubtedly Ron's letter. When he opened the envelope, a newspaper clipping fell to the ground from inside. With a glance at the owls, he bent down to pick it up. He read the _Prophet _clipping slowly, grinning at the fact that the Weasley's had won the Ministry Galleon drawing and unable to think of a more deserving family. After he read it, he skimmed Ron's exited handwriting and read the postscript.

**_P.S: I bought you a christmas present, but I was afraid of Errol losing it. You'll just have to wait until next time you come to the Burrow, or Errol finally drops dead and Mum buys a new owl (Whatever comes first, eh?). If neither happens this summer, The twins 'nd I might just have to pull a repeat of last years rescue._**

**_Mum just glared at me as I wrote that. She's scary, sometimes! (read: ALWAYS) Hehe... So I'll just tell you to ignore that one part._**

**_Fred, or maybe it was George, just told me to remind you not to snog Ginny too much in front of our mum. Sorry, Harry._**

**_Ginny just did something to his soup. I don't think he noticed ye- OH BLOODY HELL! Where did Ginny learn that spell? I'd better go before Mum confiscates Errol!_**

Knowing Ginny, Harry had a very bad idea of what she could have done. He stifled a grin as he moved on to Hedwig's package. Apparently Hedwig was considerably more secure than the Weasley's ancient bird, as the box felt surprisingly heavy.

Hermione's gift was surprisingly free of a long, dull note inside the box. Instead, There was a simple Happy Birthday! note, tucked away with the sugar free treats. All that was left now was a large barn owl carrying an unmarked box.

Harry cautiously reached for the strap holding the box to the owl's leg. Not sensing any hostility, he grabbed the box and tugged the parcel off. Sitting on the bed, he used a small penknife to slice the box open. Lifting up the flaps, he reached in and grabbed-

"_Bloody hell!" _He hissed, yanking his rapidly swelling hand out of the box, inadvertently allowing the deadly scorpion out onto his bed. With a quiet _snap, _the insect transformed back into a fully grown wizard. Harry groggily yelped and tumbled backwards off of the bed. _What... just... _His mind fumbled to make coherent sentences as the wizard stepped closer. Harry reached for his wand. The wizard tutted.

"Don't bother, Potter. What are you going to do? Poke me with it? _Petrificus totalus." _The swish of the wand was almost lazy, just showing off how little Harry could do. "What you are feeling the effects of now, by the way, is pure pit scorpion venom." Harry's eyes widened minutely. "You are about to pay for destroying my Lord!" He hissed at Harry, glaring. He cast what Harry assumed was a powerful locking charm on the door before shielding the room, making access near impossible.

"Get ready to experience true hell." The wizard grabbed Harry by his hair and pulled something out of his pocket. In a flash and an uncomfortable squeezing sensation, they found themselves in a dark cellar.

Harry was released from the Body-Bind Jinx, but it made no real difference. The pain and dizziness from the venom had incapacitated him, and the entire arm was now swollen and slightly numb. He barely noticed as the wizard flicked his wand, causing chains to erupt from the floor and lock him into a spread eagle position flat on the ground. The wizard apparently noticed Harry's glazed look, as he chuckled.

"Oh no, can't have that! You need to be able to feel _all _of the pain to truly appreciate this." The man flicked his wand at Harry, and a peculiar feeling flew through him. He felt as though every nerve in his body was raw and exposed, and the haze of numbness vanished as his brain went into overdrive. He felt his breath speeding up as he panicked. He had just been poisoned and kidnapped by someone who was most definitely a follower of Voldemort. He was going to die. Crap.

He swallowed as the wizard stared menacingly at him. "Let's begin." He flicked his wand, and Harry felt the chains begin to pull in opposite directions, stretching his limbs. It began as an uncomfortable twinge, then he screamed as he felt every joint in his body dislocate one by one. A fiery pain cascaded throughout his body, and Harry blacked out.

...

"Finally! I thought you'd never get up." The wizard laughed insanely. "Let me demonstrate a technique the Muggle Chinese use. I believe it's called the 'Death of a Thousand Cuts'." With a swish of the man's wand, Hundreds of tiny stinging slices covered Harry's skin. He yelped quickly, but stopped, not wanting to show weakness.

Before he could utter another squeak, however, the ground he was chained to was Transfigured into a pool of salt water. The heavy chains, instead of keeping him at the normal floor level, dragged him down to below the surface and kept on going. Only when he was at about twenty feet under did he stop sinking. In another bright flash of pain, hundreds more deeper cuts criss-crossed across his skin in the salty water. The salt made his skin feel as though it was burning off, and it was all he could do not to inhale in pain. All of a sudden, the cuts healed and he was brought roughly back up to the surface.

He inhaled sharp breaths of air as he found himself once more on solid concrete, chained to the ground. Sopping wet, yes, but still chained to the ground. His tormentor grinned.

"I've got something to attend to, so I'll just leave you here for the night. Promise not to go anywhere?" The man grinned slyly. "_Frigidero!"_

Harry felt the chilling charm take effect immediately. Icicles began to form in his hair, and his breath fogged up. He began shivering uncontrollably. At another flick of the man's wand, extra chains wrapped around his head and waist.

_This'll be fun. _He thought sarcastically.

...

Two weeks later, Harry had undergone various other tortures. He remembered each of them distinctly, and each memory drew out various amounts of anger and fury.

He remembered having to hang upside down from the ceiling for two days in chains glowing red hot.

He remembered being forced to drink illegal potions, and then having to wait out the effects.

He remembered being dissected without any sort of painkiller, and then being put back together.

He remembered becoming the world's first human pincushion.

In hindsight, it shocked him that he was really surprised what he was willing to do to escape.

...

Harry was tired. He had given up on any chance of being saved that first day. So when he woke up to find that his chains weren't on one morning, he was naturally suspicious. He pulled himself to his feet, fearful of the snaps and cracks his joints were making.

"Hey, Potter!"

Harry winced at the voice. It scared him that the person who decided if he lives or dies was terminally insane.

"I've got a proposition for you." That did _not _sound good. Death Eaters didn't make propositions, period.

"There are three doors I am offering to you. The first door is that you accept my proposition, and you can leave and go back to your little friends." Harry stared at him impassively.

"The second door is that you accept my proposition, but decide that you don't _want_ to leave after all." _Was he mental!?_

"The third door is that you refuse my proposition, and we go back to how we've been the past two and a half weeks."

Silence.

"How would you feel about killing a Muggle?"

* * *

**A/N: Muahahahha! Review... IF YOU DARE! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer- I do not own Harry flipping Potter. Happy, potential lawsuits?**

* * *

_Previously- "How would you feel about killing a Muggle?"_

_..._

Harry was at war with himself. On one hand, he _really _needed to get out of here. He wanted to be here about as much as Ron wanted to be in Slytherin. What was one pathetic Muggle's life compared to the life of him, the Boy-Who-Lived?

Plus, he _really _needed to get out of here.

On the other hand... He was supposed to be the good guy! Heroes don't kill innocent people, they try to save their lives. Who was he, to play God? He didn't get to decide who lived or died.

Unless, of course, he had intimate knowledge of that person... His gaunt, waxy features settled into a smirk.

"Can I choose the Muggle?" The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Quite."

...

Harry stared down at the prone form of his hideously obese Aunt Marge. Something flickered inside his at the thought of finally being able to _thank _her for all those years of setting Ripper on him. A sneer flickered across his features. _Who's worthless now, woman?_

Almost as if she heard his thoughts, her eyes flickered open. "Wha-? Potter! Bring me back immediately! You worthless little-"

"But Auntie, I haven't had a chance to thank you yet!" He hid his fury behind a mask of childish excitement. The sarcasm didn'y seem to puncture her thick skull, as she responded,

"Thank me for what?"

"All those speed and algility lessons! And those life lessons you would give me at dinner! All those insults and negative remarks... It all really helped me become who I am today." He pointed his wand straight between her eyes. "_Avada kedavra." _As she dropped dead, eyes glassy, he put the wand down to his side. "You know, such a kind, _forgiving _person."

He heard the wizard walk up behind him. He simply held out the wand for the man to take. "Thank _you!_" The man accepted the wand carefully. "So, I'm assuming you want to leave." Harry just nodded. "Just stay here for one more day, then we'll figure out how to make your escape more genuine.

"Kay."

"There is one more thing to the deal, however. I couldn't tell you until after you did the first part." Harry groaned. "No, no, this one is easier. I just need you to press this piece of metal right there on your left arm- what an odd phrase!- when I finish heating it up. This has to be perfect."

Harry bit his bottom lip and nodded.

...

_"Hello again, Harry." Harry climbed to his feet as he stared at Riddle. He swallowed and began searching around for his wand nervously. Riddle laughed._

_"I don't wish you any harm, Harry! I'm actually here to call a truce, if you want to agree to it." Harry narrowed his eyes and glared._

_"Why would I ever call a truce with you? You killed my parents!" Riddle dropped his gaze and sighed. _

_"That wasn't me. While I am indeed a part of Voldemort, I am not him. I admit that I'm not exactly a light wizard, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm entirely Dark." Harry raised an eyebrow._

_"And why are you asking me for a truce now, of all times?" Riddle looked exasperated._

_"Because this is the first time in thirteen years that our powers and personalities are similar enough that we could combine into one being. You would still be mostly you, since you are the original person, but you would gain the memories and powers of myself."_

_"Oh, yay. I could become part Dark Lord. How could I ever refuse?" Riddle scowled at Harry's sarcasm._

_"Well, if you would prefer to have that scar for your entire life or until you kill someone again..." Harry gaped._

_"You mean no more scar? No more headaches?" Riddle smirked._

_"And you would be able to tune in to Voldie when you want to, not when he's already killing someone." Harry laughed at the nickname, but became serious. _

_"I'd like that. How..." Riddle sighed._

_"Walk straight into me."_

_"Okie dokie. But what if, by odd coincidence, physics actually hold true at the same time we make contact, and all we both get is a concussion?"_

_"You worry too much, Potter."_

_"Brilliant."_

_..._

Harry woke up the exact moment he and Riddle made contact. _Oh, brilliant. _He sighed as he climbed off of the cot. Definitely better than the ground. He sighed as he reached over to the table for his glasses and-

Realized that he could see fine. Just to be sure, he put on his glasses and squinted through them. Everything was blurry and out of focus. He grinned as he pocketed the glasses for later and glanced in the mirror.

"Bloody hell!" His hair, instead of the messy James Potter-esque hair, was straight, black, and grew all the way down to his jawbone, bangs sweeping over to cover half of one eye. And his eyes! One had remained the same bright shade of green, while the other was dark brown. His jawbone had widened slightly, nothing noticable by anyone unfamiliar with his normal face but still slightly. And his muscle tone had slightly improved, not that you could notice it with the malnourishment of the past few weeks.

"Potter!"

Harry mussed up his hair and swooped it so that it covered his odd eye just as the wizard walked in.

"Ready to start? This should just take a second..." He concentrated on harry and muttered a couple quick spells. "There! I just undid all of the minor healing. They shouldn't notice a thing." Indeed, Harry felt like crap. "One more thing... _CRUCIO!_" Harry screamed and writhed under the curse. After ten minutes of screaming and begging, the wizard Apparated an unconscious Harry to right outside the Hogwarts gates in Hogsmeade. He then Disapparated, leaving Harry behind.

...

Severus Snape was striding back to the castle when he noticed the pathetic lump of clothing near the gates. Assuming it was a hopelessly drunk traveler, he walked over to get him to move. Only close up did he realize that it was Potter, beaten to a bloody pulp and twitching badly.

As he grabbed the boy and ran towards the castle, One thought repeated itself over and over in his mind. _What happened to Potter?_

...

When Harry awoke, he found himself in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts surrounded by a group of nervous teachers. He groaned.

"Are you alright, Mister Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked quietly. Harry carefully brushed his hair back into place over his brown eye before fully opening his eyes and responding.

"I think so, Professor, but I may have to give Madam Pomfrey the final say in that." He motioned towards the Healer, grinning.

Madam Ponfrey asked, "Can you see all right, Mr. Potter?"

"Perfectly, why?"

"You're not wearing your glasses. I also noticed that a certain famous scar also appears to be missing." The teachers gaped at him. Snape growled and moved closer to the bed.

"What were the answers to the three questions I asked Harry Potter in my first class with him?" Harry thought for a moment.

"Draught of Living Death, inside the stomach of a goat, and they are the same plant." Snape wasn't satisfied.

"What book did I confiscate from Potter in the first year he was at Howarts?"

"Quiddich Through the Ages." Snape looked relieved.

"It's Potter." Harry sighed.

"No, really? I thought I was just an extremely unlucky Death Eater! Thanks, Professor!" Professor Flitwick snorted, earning himself a glare from the irate Potions professor.

All of a sudden, Dumblebore walked in. "Hello, Harry."

Harry stiffened, all joking gone from his face. "Good morning, Professor." Dumbledore stood next to the bed.

"Harry, can you remember what happened? Anything at all?" Harry slowly nodded. "Can you tell us?" He shook his head rapidly.

Dumbledore shot a meaningful glance at the other teachers, and they filed out. Soon Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry were alone. "Now can you tell us?"

"No."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, would you allow us to see your memory? We need to know what happened in order to help you." He removed his wand from his robes. "This won't hurt, Harry. Just think about what happened. Tell me when you're ready."

_Harry, allow me. I just need to alter a few parts of the memory. _He felt Riddle doing _something_. After a few seconds, he stopped. _Finished._

"All right, Professor. Now." Harry winced as the wand pressed against his temple, and withdrew a long, silvery thread. With this achieved, Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a smooth basin, no larger than a dinner plate.

"_Finite Incantatem." _The bowl expanded as the shrinking charm on it was canceled. Dumbledore poured in the memory, stirring it with his wand. "Severus?" The two men leaned into the bowl.

_What did you do to the memory, Riddle?_

_I just 'edited out' a few little things._

_You had no right!_

_I just thought that you didn't want to be known as a Muggle killer._

_...Oh. _That actually made a lot of sense. Before he could come up with a better response, the professors leaned back up out of the memory, looking startled.

"...Potter?" Snape's hesitant voice made him wince. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I've been better, though." Snape snorted.

"I wonder why. You were only tortured for three weeks at the hands of an insane Death Eater. Can't understand why that would be detrimental to your health, though."

"Severus!"

"Sorry, Albus."

Harry chortled. At the glare Snape was sending him, however, self preservation kicked in and he stopped.

"Albus, we need to have a talk outside." Dumbledore inclined his head, and they left Madam Pomfrey to tend to Harry. Even through the door, he heard the shouts.

"Albus! He was _tortured _for Merlin's sake! This isn't normal for someone his age!" Their conversation turned to a mumble. "You saw some of the things done to him! He's too calm!"

"Here, drink this, dear. It's a Nutritive Elixir." Harry quietly accepted the round bottle the Healer held out and chugged it. It didn't taste bad, really. Just really thick, like drinking concentrated juice or syrup. After a minute, she handed him another, smaller bottle.

"Blood Replenishing Potion. This one tastes a bit worse." He took a small sip and made a face before chugging it down as well. The metallic taste lingered in his mouth after he finished.

"One last one. This one is definitely the worst." She poured out a glass of an unidentified purple liquid and offered it to him. He held his breath and poured it down his throat. Unfortunately for him, this set off his gag reflex and the fluid tried to eject itself. He rapidly swallowed to make it go down.

"Mr. Potter, you need to rest." Harry nodded and curled up under the covers, letting himself drift into tiredness.

...

_Riddle sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the tiny snake. _

_"You can talk?" The snake almost seemed to laugh._

_:**Of courssse. It'sss jussst that not everyone knowsss how to lisssten.:**_

_Yeah, he knew how that felt. "I'm sorry."_

**_:Don't be sssorry, boy. You've done nothing wrong. It's the Mugglesss who are alwaysss to fault.: _**_Riddle blinked._

_"Muggles?" Before the snake could explain, Miss Cole burst in, screeching._

_"MISTER RIDDLE! I have heard reports of you talking to a snake! This is unacceptable behavior!" She ran over to where is newfound friend was curled up on the ground and, to Riddle's stunned expression, smashed the reptile's skull with her heel. "I will not stand for any strangeness in this orphanage! Let this be a lesson to you!" The she-devil spun around and stomped out of the room._

_As soon as she was out of sight, he shut the door and picked up his friend. "No..." He whispered hoarsely, before a lone tear trickled down his face._

_..._

When Harry awoke, he immediately reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Then he realized two things. One, he didn't need his glasses, and two, he couldn't move his arm.

"What-" He was cut off as he realized who was standing behind him, glaring with murderous rage at his upper left arm.

"Why did you not think to mention that sooner?" Hissed Snape, who hadn't moved his gaze from Harry's arm yet. Harry was startled.

"Mention what?" He followed Snape's gaze, until he saw exactly what the man meant. Branded against the pale white of his upper arm was the image of a human skull with a snake for a tongue.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, I've got chapter 3 coming soon. I was sitting in my kitchen today, when my sister grabbed the back of my neck. I screamed "VOLDEMORT!" and whacked her with a bunch of bananas.**

**My life is very interesting.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. Ow, that stings.**

* * *

Harry swallowed as he stared alternately between the Potions Master and his arm. He had almost expected the mark to have vanished, but he supposed that the Death Eater had cursed the Mark as to make it permanent.

It wasn't really a Dark Mark, as the Dark magic radiating off of it was minimal, but it still served as a reminder of what awaited him. But Snape didn't know that. And Harry couldn't tell him because it would mean that he was admitting to knowing of its existence. The Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the Wizarding world, bearing a Dark Mark would cause a frenzy that no one could afford to deal with at the moment.

_Well, you're in a bit of a conundrum, aren't you? _Riddle obviously felt none of the nervous twinges that currently plagued him, as he knew that the… whatever Riddle was had never met Snape. As Riddle teased him for his cowardice, Harry stared at his arm and poked the Mark tentatively. He winced as the still-tender flesh complained at the gentle touch. In reality, he was just stalling so that he would have an excuse not to look up at his Professor. Snape did not approve.

"Potter, I asked you a question. What is that _thing _on your arm?" Harry took a deep breath and locked all of his conflicting emotions away, making his face melt into a blank mask. He forced his eyes away from his arm.

"I don't know… The Death Eater must have placed it there when my mind was occupied with other things, such as remaining sane. It wouldn't have seemed that important when I thought my arm was going to fall off from the tortures." It was mostly true, anyways.

Snape grimaced at the bluntness of the words. Riddle, however, was thoroughly amused. It made sense, as he was a psychotic maniac who shared Harry's mind, that he would understand the sarcastic undertone.

_Hey, I am what I am, Potter. One could alternately call you a psychotic maniac who let a known psychotic maniac into his mind and besides, who made the sarcastic statement in the first place?_

Harry went back to tracing the Mark on his arm absently. He felt the Professor study him for a moment more before muttering something under his breath and leaving the Hospital Wing. As soon as he left, Madame Pomfrey rushed in and bombarded him with an arsenal of healing potions, many of which Harry could only guess the purpose of.

One of them must have been a sleeping potion, as Harry felt himself sink into darkness almost immediately afterwards.

.

.

.

Riddle was stretched out in a green leather armchair when Harry appeared. Harry glanced around, recognizing the Slytherin common room from second year. Riddle set down the book he was reading hurriedly and scrambled to his feet in an attempt to look dignified and stiff.

"About five seconds too late, Tommy." Harry chuckled and sat in the armchair across from Riddle, picking up the book Riddle had dropped. "_Animagi Magicks? _What's that?"

Riddle's scowl turned into barely guarded delight as he collapsed back into his armchair, legs swung over one leather arm and his back leaned against the other as he explained. "An Animagus, Animagi plural, is a witch or wizard that can transform into an animal at will. Usually each witch or wizard will have one creature that they can transform into, the creature usually depending on one's character or personality. The transformation takes about a minimum of three years, mainly depending on one's magical strength or compatibility with their animal form. After the first successful transformation, the ability will stay with you forever. In an Animagus form, the person still comprehends human speech and emotion, and is in complete control of themselves. A cat Animagus would feel no more compulsion to eat the family goldfish than one would as a human.

"An Animagus form is always a non-magical animal. The only magical Animagus ever recorded was a half-Veela who could become a unicorn, and she died over a thousand years ago. Animagi are forced to register with the Ministry after the age of seventeen, and an unregistered Animagus can spend up to ten years in Azkaban depending on the circumstances.

"An Animagus transformation traditionally begins with an incantation to reveal if the person has the potential to become an Animagus in the first place, and is then followed by transforming certain parts of the body to reveal the Animagus form of the witch or wizard, such as feet, hands, or patches of skin. This will be followed by months, or even years of meditation until their cores accept their animals as a part of their identity. Some wizards don't have the patience to wait until their meditation is complete, and would end up permanently an animal, or with certain animal parts forever, or even dead. Others simply don't get past the second step, because they don't like the animals they end up being or some such nonsense.

"Occasionally a person will want to change themselves so much after the second step that their personality will alter, giving them a new form. It takes so much willpower that only a few people would go to the lengths necessary, and the rest would either learn to accept what they are or give up.

"The Ministry, however, make it so that people are ashamed of learning new magic, and they have almost made the Animagus transformation seem dark. It's pathetic." Harry absorbed this information, remembering how the Death Eater had gotten into his house so easily by transforming into a scorpion.

He also watched the change in Riddle's demeanor as he spoke. At the beginning of the lecture, he was as stiff as a board, uncomfortable in such a vulnerable position. As he went on, however, Riddle seemed to soften. He was now stretched out, eyes glazed over slightly, motioning with his hand as he spoke. An unconscious smile seemed to tug at the boy's lips as he explained.

It was quite unnerving.

He shook himself off of his current train of thought and asked a question. "Were you ever an Animagus?"

Riddle's features hardened as he realized that Harry was still there. "No, I, sadly, did not have the potential to become an Animagus. I'm not sure exactly why, but I have my suspicions."

"But you did read the spells?"

"At the time that I went to Hogwarts, the school library did not include any books on that particular subject." Harry's face fell, causing Riddle to smirk.

"Salazar Slytherin's personal library, however, had quite a bit to say on the subject."

Harry gaped at him for a minute, before scowling. "Did you have to do that?"

Riddle's smirk grew wider. "Yes, I believe I did. You wouldn't be interested in becoming an Animagus, would you?"

Harry sat up straight in his chair.

"Would you be willing to teach me?"

.

.

.

Harry awoke groggily, the Sleeping Draught still wearing off. He froze as he heard two people arguing outside of his drawn curtains. He decided to close his eyes and listen to what they were saying. He quickly identified the two people as Dumbledore and Snape.

"…Severus, you are overreacting. The boy is recovering from a very traumatic experience, and-"

"No, Albus! He is hiding something from us, and you know it!" There was a sigh.

"Severus, it is completely normal for someone's memory to be splotchy after an event like this. Harry is just a boy. Our minds will edit out certain things that would otherwise leave us scarred, especially for one that young."

"That wasn't just _splotchy_! Those memories were tampered with by a master Legilimens, Albus. I have only seen a few memories that have been fixed like that throughout my entire lifetime. There is no way that _Potter_ could have done something that elaborate, or even planned that far ahead. The boy is no Ravenclaw."

"Perhaps. I am still quite strongly held to the belief that Harry will remember the entire thing when he is ready. To cause him to remember too soon may be traumatic."

Snape huffed. "Fine, Albus. We'll wait. But for all we know…" Harry felt his nose itch as a feather floated out of his pillow. _No!_ He twitched his nose, trying to disperse the urge to… To… _CRUD!_

"_ACKTCHOO!"_ He sneezed. Loudly. Snape and Dumbledore opened the curtains to find him sprawled halfway off of the bed, clutching his ribcage. "Ow…"

"I believe that would be qualified as a rude awakening." Dumbledore stated, eyes sparkling. Snape merely scowled at him. Harry just winced as another sharp pain racked his side. He wanted to groan, but he didn't want to cause himself more pain.

Help came in the form of Madame Pomfrey, who ran out of her office and helped Harry pull himself back onto the bed. "The poor boy needs his rest! Go on! Go!"

Riddle snorted. _That woman is the only person alive who can shoo both Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape._

_You haven't met Mrs. Weasley, yet._

_I can barely contain my excitement. _Harry smirked and relaxed back into his pillow. He quietly nodded and accepted the potions that the Healer offered. Before long, he felt the effects kick in, and he slipped into dreams once again.

.

.

.

Riddle stared at the wall of his room, the taunts of _freak _and _weird creep _echoing in his mind. He clenched his teeth and glared at the wall, which he was certain was the cause of his problems.

He so wanted to make them all pay, to kill them all with a single word and a flick of his wand. He should have realized earlier that he would have to return here when school ended. He should have known better than to assume that Dumbledore would save him from this hellhole. He growled and tossed his pillow at the wall, wishing that he could do magic outside of Hogwarts not for the first time.

He pulled out his sketchpad, flipping past detailed, graphic drawings of certain people being eaten by a giant snake, burned, sketches of snakes lunging at the person watching the picture, various designs of a faceless man wearing hooded robes and a white mask, and a single drawing of the man wearing a white mask shaped like a human skull circled. He finally turned to a page embroidered with the image of a human skull with a snake for a tongue. In sharp letters, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE was spelled out. With a single poke of his fingers, the letters rearranged into I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

He smirked and poked it once more, returning it to it normal form.

.

.

.

Harry winced as he returned to his own mind. Riddle's first summer back from Hogwarts had strange parallels to Harry's own, which most definitely did not skip Harry's attention. And in both cases, the fault was Dumbledore's.

Dumbledore had left him at the Dursley's, where he had been treated like the scum of the earth for eleven years. Dumbledore had also ignored Riddle for being sorted into Slytherin, not giving him the help that was needed.

Harry felt his anger pool inside of him as he lay there on the bed. All of a sudden, he sat bolt upright. Bed? He looked around him. Surely enough, he was no longer in the hospital wing. He recognized his surroundings as those of his dorm in the Gryffindor common room.

He stretched lazily and, purely out of habit, reached for his glasses. Instead, he felt a small piece of parchment crinkle in his grip. He smoothed it out and read;

_Harry,  
I am sure you will be happy to hear that Madame Pomfrey has deemed you healthy enough to be allowed out of the Hospital wing. She has told me to warn you, however, that if you are caught overexerting yourself for any reason, she will put a permanent sticking charm on your cot so as to make you unable to leave. _

_Since your relative's house is not secure at the moment, you are to finish the rest of the summer holidays at Hogwarts, until we ward their house for further protection._

_-Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Harry grinned as he pulled himself carefully off of the bed. There was a whole two weeks before the rest of the school arrived on the First. He walked over to his trunk, which a house elf must have recovered, and pulled out his invisibility cloak. He shoved it hastily into his robes and dashed down to the common room, exhilarated at the prospect of being away from curious students.

He hopped out of the portrait hole, and thought for a moment. This would probably be the only chance he'd get to go into the Chamber alone. He was rather cautious of being followed, however.

_There's a secret passage over on the wall, about twenty steps ahead of you. _Harry started, surprised, at Riddle's sudden appearance, but began to walk in the direction indicated. However, he was startled by the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He glanced back, seeing a shadow coming from around a bend not far behind him. He yanked out his cloak and flung it over his head just as Filch appeared. The revolting man cast accusing glances through the corridor before continuing on his way.

Harry sighed and turned back towards the wall. Where Riddle had told him to stop was a blank portrait, with just a stone wall on the canvas.

_Say something in Parseltongue! _Encouraged Riddle. Harry was curious.

_Why? _Riddle groaned.

_Just do it!_

_If you insist… _Harry took a deep breath, focusing on a crack in the wall underneath the portrait. If he turned his head just so, it looked like a little snake engraved in the brick. :Open:, He hissed.

Nothing happened, or so he thought. Riddle chuckled at Harry's cluelessness.

_Put your hand out and touch the wall. _Harry did so, and nearly yelped when he saw his hand go through the wall. He pulled it back out and exclaimed, _It's an illusion!_

_Yep. _Harry grinned and stepped through the wall, glancing around at his surroundings. A sudden thought froze him in his tracks.

_Is this how the basilisk got around last year without anyone seeing it? _Riddle hesitated, giving him all the explanation he needed. Harry winced, but continued walking. Riddle explained the location of each archway that they passed, so as to give them a general location of where they were. Gryffindor tower was relatively high up in the castle, so the guidance was gratefully accepted.

Before long, Riddle proclaimed them to be right outside of the girl's bathroom that held the entrance to the Chamber. _It's here. Now just step through the wall._

Harry was hesitant. _Do I have to say anything, first?_

_Are you doubting me, Potter? _The sarcasm in Riddle's tone caused Harry to roll his eyes. He stepped directly through the wall, not meeting any resistance. Harry stood there for a second, trying to figure out how the system worked for future reference. Riddle searched through Harry's mind, trying to find a worthy comparison.

_It's like a push/pull door. From one side, you can just shoulder your way through without having to think about it. But if you tried doing that from the other side, you'd just bang against it, doing nothing. _Harry nodded, satisfied. He walked up to the sink, allowing his hand to skim across the surface of each faucet seeking out each bump and scratch until he found the one engraved with the serpent. With a single hiss, he opened it.

He stared down into the black abyss as Riddle told him to ask for stairs. He nodded slowly, feeling the memories from last year wash over him. The dueling club… Being shunned by his classmates… The accusations… Being stalked by Lockhart… Malfoy doing his best to ruin his reputation… Dobby trying to kill him…

His voice was completely empty as he hissed _:Stairs:. _He trudged down emotionlessly into darkness, until he could see nothing but the blackness that enveloped him as he descended.

He couldn't find it in him to care.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to write, but it's considerably longer than my other chapters, in my own defense. I appreciated all the reviews you gave me, as well! I would just like to add that unless it's been more than five months since my last update, I am still working on the story and want you to review. REVIEW! I can never get enough of you guys's opinions on how I'm doing. **


End file.
